Prologue

If
anyone asked what I was most afraid of, what terrified me, stole my breath, and
made my life flicker before my eyes, I would say three little words.

How
could my perfect life plummet so far into hell?

How
could my love for Brax twist so far into unfixable?

The
black musty hood over my head suffocated my thoughts, and I sat with hands
bound behind my back. Twine rubbed my wrists with hungry stringed teeth, ready
to bleed me dry in this new existence.

Noise.

The
cargo door of the airplane opened and footsteps thudded toward us. My senses
were dulled, muted by the black hood; my mind ran amok with terror-filled
images. Would I be raped? Mutilated? Would I ever see Brax again?

My
breath stuttered as power sliced, deep and fast, igniting broken parts of me
with sparks. His allure, his power, all magnified to fist around my stomach. In
the dark recess of my brain, I translated his words to him being mine. The power trip the little words gave was
indescribable.

No
wonder he wanted me to say it. I was drunk on them. He was mine. Mine.

What
life did Q live, needing to hear such a strong affirmation? What ghosts haunted
him?

Q
tightened his fingers, biting into my jaw. “Say it.”

With
his command, I fumbled into the victim I was, the rape survivor, the slave. The
brief sense of ownership left me bereft.

Q
twisted my nipple under the wet material of my bra. His cruelty reddened my
skin and fight skittered into yielding. He sent me reeling into needful and
damaged. I’d been so close to finding strength, but he took it away in an
instant.

Fresh
tears spilled as I whispered, “Je suis à
toi.”

Q
sighed heavily, resting his forehead on mine. “Will you run again? Will you
leave the one man who wants you above all others? Leave his protection?” His
voice wavered with regret, resignation, as if he expected me to run, and
already suffered loneliness.

My
eyes popped wide; I shook my head. “No, I won’t run again.”

He
looked with half-hooded eyes. “How can you be so sure? Don’t I scare you?
Repulse you?”

He
never repulsed me, and fear where Q was concerned was an aphrodisiac. But I
couldn’t tell him. “I will never escape. Je
suis à toi.”

Excerpt #2

“Worse
than me?” he murmured. His voice held an edge, almost as if his question meant
a lot more than what he asked.

Wanting
to give him something, after all he did for me last night, I nodded. “A lot
worse.”

He
shook his head, eyes unfocused. Memories swirled in their depths and I wanted
to chase him wherever he went. I wanted to know
him. Would he ever let me get close? Was a slave allowed to help her owner,
while letting him use her body? I didn’t know the rules.

Q
finally released me, presenting the other package. “This is for you.” His jaw
clenched as I held my hands out, accepting the large sketchpad and charcoal
pencils. I opened it and couldn’t breathe. Inside, architectural graph
paper—the exact kind I used in my university course—glowed fresh and new.

My
eyes widened. “You remembered what I told you…that first breakfast when you
kissed me.”

He
sat straighter, tension rippling in his body. “I remember everything, esclave. I remember how you smell, how
you taste. I remember how you feel inside and how terrified you were when I
found you at Lefebvre’s residence. I also know things you haven’t told me. You
secretly like what I do to you. You think you hide it, but I know that darkness
in your eyes. It feeds me, calls to me.”

He fisted the covers, throwing them off me, exposing my body. “Why else
do you think I can’t leave you alone?”

Author
Information

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them
include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that
twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she
constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her
books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing,
fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.